


not quite cold enough

by inareese



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Reconciliation, gratuitous fluff, more... pining, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inareese/pseuds/inareese
Summary: It is spring-almost-summer when Natsumi finally returns (home) to Ishgard.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	not quite cold enough

**Author's Note:**

> for jay and their lovely wol who is impossibly incredibly sweet ;;

Eight moons in, grief burns itself out.

Not that grief is, perhaps, the right word. It is more of a quiet ache - a whisper in the moonlight, a sighed name in the darkness. A hole in the heart that all the boughs of lilies in the world could never hope to fill.

It would be a mistake to name this grief – for how could Natsumi ever be anything approaching sorrow?

Eight moons in, Haurchefant sits in Camp Dragonhead as a vicious winter storm wails on outside. This tangle in his heart – no, it’s not grief, but rather something sweeter. A tinge of longing, a rush of emotions, a swell of happiness.

Though the seat across from him is empty and the mug of hot chocolate untouched, his heart blazes warmer than the hearth with memories of her. Somewhere down the line, he has taken to making an extra serving now, whenever he fixes something hot and sweet for himself.

After all, Haurchefant promised there would always be a seat by the fire and warm melted cocoa waiting for her, did he not?

The porcelain mug sits across from him, handle a curving branch of sakura. Her favorite. The steam curls into the air, gentle fingers brushing past his cheeks. The blizzard is relentless outside. But in here, and at all times, Haurchefant’s heart is brimming with the sound of twinkling laughter and a soft smile that he has started thinking of as home. He has never been warmer.

* * *

Eight moons ago, Natsumi walks beyond the Gate of Judgement and Haurchefant looks on quietly. He looks on and on and on, until the blurry smear of her figure departing on the horizon is imprinted in his very soul. Part of him leaves Ishgard with her that day.

And now –

Now, the world is perched on the precipice of spring, one tumble away from summer. Of course, in Ishgard, seasons are relative and the cold wind cares not for the classifications the rest of Eorzea uses. The winter is eternal, after all.

But in the rest of the world it is spring-almost-summer, and Natsumi –

“Welcome home, old friend.” Haurchefant sweeps low in a bow, words beaming bright, smile even brighter.

Natsumi stands in the doorway of the Falling Snow –  _ their  _ Falling Snow – hair gently fluttering as the closing door pushes away the last of the biting wind, presence unobtrusive and quiet and gentle. Somehow she is the center of his world anyway.

She brings a hand to her mouth, pulling down her scarf as twinkling laughter spills into the air between them. “Ser Haurchefant, I’ve barely just stepped over the threshold.” Her smile is so, so brilliant, the softness in her eyes as potent as a dagger through his heart.

Haurchefant carefully tucks his hands behind his back to refrain from indulging in an overly enthusiastic embrace that would knock them both onto the cold and hard stone floor. “There will always be a place for you in House Fortemps, no?” He says instead. “This still has not changed and all the divine powers in the world could not hope to change it.” 

Even without intending to, his words are terribly earnest. His heart clamors to be heard, this close in front of her, and the rest of his body consciously obeys, pulling out sentiments and words that had laid hidden in the deepest recesses of his soul during her absence.

Natsumi startles slightly, a strangled noise escaping her throat. Her cheeks flushed, nose burning a soft red as she blinks at him, oddly vulnerable in the moment. And there she stands – the Azure Dragoon, the savior of Ishgard, the survivor of the Dragonsong. 

There she stands, her already small figure dwarfed in layers and layers of scarves and coats and fabrics that look incomparably soft, and yet could not possibly be softer than the unmarred skin hiding an even softer heart. The firelight reflects off her wide eyes as she opens and closes her mouth helplessly, rosy red crawling all the way up to her cheeks.

Haurchefant is almost swept off his feet by the unfairly endearing display in front of him. “Pray do not look so startled, dear friend!” He laughs kindly and Natsumi answers in part with a bashful smile. “Aye, ‘tis selfishness on my part that hopes you have come to regard Ishgard–” and I, his mind whispers, “–as home.” 

Natsumi’s eyelashes flutter as she turns and buries her entire face in her scarf, voice muffled. “I- I am heartened to see that you are just as warm and kind to everyone as you’ve always been. It is good to be here. Home, that is. It is good to be home. Genuinely. ” 

Home, she echoes after Haurchefant, even though the Gates of Judgement and Ishgard proper are far beyond them and this is nothing more than Camp Dragonhead. The tips of her cheeks are (still) red - and why shouldn’t be, when Coerthas is so cold? But Haurchefant will still hope, of course, and still dream. His heart will never cease its yearning.

* * *

When they are two steps away from the Last Vigil, Natsumi looks as if even her bone marrow has frozen over. “I-” She sneezes as a particularly large snowflake lands on her nose. “I apologize again, for all this.” She’s snuggled tightly into one of Haurchefant’s spare cloaks in addition to the layers she had already been wielding against the biting cold. He looks down at her and resists the urge yet again to sweep her into his embrace for the rest of the way.

His smile is slightly helpless. “The least I could do for you after all you have done is lend you an extra layer of protection against the cold.” He would do all this and more, Natsumi. All this and more. He could never, ever do enough, never enough to translate the brimming depths of his affection into something physical and tangible that you can see.

“You truly did not have to escort me all this way, especially when you must make the journey all the way back again.” She tells him helplessly, fingers unconsciously tugging his coat tighter around her trembling figure, tail sweeping in the air.

Haurchefant shakes her head and carefully takes her hand in his. “As I have told you, Emmanellain has been frightfully busy preparing to take over my post. There is much to arrange, and the trek from Dragonhead to House Fortemps has become a regular fixture in my days.” She looks up carefully as he quietly lowers himself onto his knees until he can clearly see every snowflake clinging onto her eyelashes. The glow in her eyes snatches her breath away, this close.

His every breath has long belonged to her.

“But this is not a question of whether you are troubling me, or if I am being bound by common courtesy.” His words are soft as he continues, eyes searchingly finding hers before she looks down. “I do this because I want to, for you. You have given so much, and.” He pauses, words coming short and squeezes her hand tightly instead. “I missed you, my dearest friend.” 

When Haurchefant winds his arms around her carefully, she’s hesitant for barely a second before something in her gives and she’s burrowing into his warmth, a familiar pressure in his arms. His fingers tighten around her as he pulls her close, as if he could wordlessly convey through their proximity and his unrelenting grip how much she means to him. 

Can she see it, this close? The gentle flame she’s kindled in his heart that has never once gone out? 

“Oh, Ser Haurchefant,” Her breath is warm against his skin, chin tucked neatly against his shoulder as they sink into a long-overdue hug. They fold into each other as if they were made to, instinctively finding space by each other’s sides. “How I’ve missed you too.”

The world is a gentle flurry of ephemeral white dancing around them, the Last Vigil still and unmoving in dusk. Despite the night sky twinkling above, Haurchefant inhales and breathes in sunshine and light and an achingly familiar scent. It is a bitingly frosty night, but.

Haurchefant is stupidly in love, and Natsumi is the only fire and light he will ever need in his life. 

Natsumi was not made for the eternal winter of Coerthas, skin delicate and fair, scales shimmering under the light. She is almost reluctant when they separate from the embrace, fingers unconsciously reaching out again. Haurchefant inhales a sharp breath and closes his eyes at the sight, the garden of lilies and sakuras that had long since blossomed in his heart blooming even brighter.

* * *

When they step inside, the entire drawing room falls silent and turns as one to look. First at Natsumi’s shivering form, bundled in a familiar coat, and then Haurchefant, who looks no worse for wear. In fact, here is a hearty glow of energy in his eyes and a spring in his step. He all but  _ radiates joy _ , an air about him that would have any Ishgardian knight believe Haurchefant just came back from a stroll as an honored guest in the vaunted halls of Halone Herself.

The ex-count Fortemps is appalled, eyebrows raising at his wayward son. “Why, she is all but half frozen, Haurchefant! Did you, by chance, forget to invite her in and kept her waiting outside in an attempt to test our hero’s infallibility?” His words are sharp but warm with joy.

Haurchefant startles, and whatever expression he’s wearing is enough to make Natsumi laugh, the sound like tinkling chimes in the wind. Bringing a hand up to her mouth to stem the mirth that threatens to spill into the air, she shakes her head gently. 

“Pray do not fault Ser Haurchefant, my lord. It is easy to lose track of time out there, in the endless white, especially when it is a sight that has haunted the corridors of my heart for a long time.” Her words dance into the air, as soft as they are sure. “I am fine–” And then she sneezes, entire form shaking with the force of it.

The alarm must be plain on Haurchefant’s face as his fingers itch to wrap another layer (and then himself, for good measure) around her. “Dear friend, please, let us get you into something warmer and drier before you catch a cold on account of my selfishness–”

A delicate hand being held up is enough, will always be enough to still him. “I must convey my greetings first, and tell you all that,” Her eyes glimmer under the light as she bites at her lip. “I am truly grateful for– for more than can be expressed in words. It is good to see you all again, truly. And I’m...” Tilting her head up, she hesitantly finds Haurchefant’s gaze, a bit searching, a bit tentative. Whatever she finds there, whatever torrent of emotion, fount of affection that he’s certain must be plain on his face for all to see –

Whatever she finds is enough for those bright eyes of hers to steel with determination. “It is lovely to be home once again.” She all but blurts out, gently placing her hands on her thighs as she bows neatly and gracefully to the room.

It still does not hide her flaming face from Haurchefant’s view. Amidst the clamor of his family surging to welcome her and pulling her closer to the fire, he exhales slowly, eyelids fluttering shut.

Home. Hearth, heart, and home.

* * *

The days pass by slowly and insignificantly, in that each hour is more perfect than the last. Two revolutions won, two nations freed, the Warrior of Light and bringer of the dawn – Natsumi has shed all that the minute she first stumbled through the doorstep of the Falling Snow, an oh-so-familiar flush ever-present on her face.

He hopes she recognizes that. That for all Haurchefant calls her ‘my dear warrior’ and sings praises of her heroism, for all Haurchefant laudes her valor and compassion – already immortalized in countless songs–

When the sun hangs low in the sky and dusk scuttles quietly over the land, it is all of her,  _ any  _ part of her that he loves, with or without the myriad colors the outside world sees her in. It’s always been you, Natsumi. Since the day she strode into Camp Dragonhead as little more than an adventurer, snow decking her hair, teeth chattering with the chill, eyes so patient and kind. 

Natsumi settles into his life in Ishgard as if she has always been here, an unobtrusive piece of the puzzle that completes the scenery in front of him. 

Her presence is as familiar and natural as the sun rising high into the heavens each day and then slipping off the horizon at dusk; it is almost a law of nature, her quiet existence by his side. She is the star by which he gladly orbits around, the constellation that always points home.

When Haurchefant finally takes her on that tour of Ishgard, they do so hand in hand. “For warmth,” He had said when he offered his arm. Natsumi stammers and flushes and protests and declines, but in the end–

In the end, when they set out, their fingers are gently laced together and they remain so for hours.

* * *

And so the days pass by.

He takes her on walks and she spins tales of her travels: the friends she has found across the wide land, the world beyond Ishgard’s snow-covered horizon. There is so much life in her, so much  _ vibrancy _ as she speaks, eyes wide and bright and reliving times he cannot see and will never see. It tugs at something within him, something that he had thought long since quelled since Natsumi’s arrival (homecoming) to Foundation. 

“I only wish you could have been there to see it,” Natsumi beams up at him one day, hands clasped together earnestly.

Haurchefant can’t help but laugh quietly. “You seem more than happy enough recalling the experience and that is enough for me,” He tells her, and means it, in spite of the old familiar  _ yearning _ to walk away from Coerthas and take up wandering the land by her side until the end of days.

“No,” Her smile softens. “You are just… a very good listener, Haurchefant.” She fiddles with the hem of her skirt, fingers rubbing the soft material almost nervously. “I am happy because  _ you  _ are the one I’m talking to. It matters not if it’s this or… or anything else.” She ducks her head down, hiding her face behind a curtain of glossy hair. 

“Thank you for being here. I just wanted you to know–” She shakes her head. “No, you already know that. But I could never, never ever say it enough. So thank you, Haurchefant. Truly.” Her voice is tinged with embarrassment.

And what can Haurchefant do but pat her head gently, fingers carefully threading through silky strands that smell of spring and flowers and life. She freezes minutely then relaxes into the touch even as familiar telltale red splashes itself across her cheeks. 

“You coming back time and time again is all I could ever ask for,” He tells her gently. He thinks he is going to drown from the fondness and sheer  _ love  _ welling up in him. “It is I who has not the words to express to you everything you mean to me.” He is not so subtle, has never been subtle, but this–

This, he means in all of the ways he possible – platonic and romantic and a plethora of other feelings no living being has dreamed up a word for yet.

I may know not of your distant lands you call home or the vibrant world beyond the snowy whites - but through you, with you, by just  _ knowing _ you – I am alive. There is naught more I could ask for.

Natsumi’s face is buried in her hands. “You can’t just say that,” She protests, voice muffled. “Haurchefant, you’re playing unfair.  _ I  _ was the one trying to compliment you, and yet here you are, always so  _ caring _ and  _ gentle  _ and just so  _ perfect _ –” Her voice cuts off abruptly, entire form freezing as her mind catches up to her words.

The smile on his face must be so, so indulgent right now as tender amusement rushes through him. Natsumi is so earnest in her feelings whether she means to or not. Haurchefant is a knight, of course, so he saves her from her predicament after merely a few small heartbeats of enjoyment. “And now, we have all the time in the world, you and I.” He interjects smoothly. “So tell me more of your adventures?” 

And she does, until the sun has sunk far below the horizon and the stars have come out to play. She does, in her twinkling clear voice, and Haurchefant listens and listens and listens, as he always had and always is and always will be.

If the eyes are the window to the soul - well. Her is a kind of iridescence that steals your breath away, the luster of her eyes gleaming like crystallized hope. It’s not a glare. It is the happiness that lingers whenever she visits, the still sky and its quiet horizon on an afternoon, the gentle clamor of life in his family home.

She brought peace to this land and to the people, but  _ she _ is the peace in his heart, the quiet and calm of a slow afternoon. She  _ is  _ his heart, a vital piece that had been plucked away long since their first meeting on that ordinary snow-filled day so many summers ago.

* * *

In these quiet days, there is always something unsaid hanging in the air. Something brimming on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out from his heart.

In the end, it is always the smallest of things.

Haurchefant opens to the door to his room - hardly used before, now lived in with the gentle aroma of flowers and a soothing smile.

She is so peaceful, like this. The lamps burning low bathing her in a gentle glow, the steady rise and fall of her chest in sleep. Her hair spills out around where she’s curled onto the duvet, a heavy tome -  _ A Comprehensive Guide to Ishgardian Chocobo-raising _ \- fallen open beside her.

If he could even save one heartbeat of a moment, one brief droplet in the current of time, this is what Haurchefant wants locked away in his heart forever and ever and ever.

Like this, Natsumi is–

Natsumi is in one of his sweaters. The sleeves drape over her hands until only her fingers are poking out, and the hem reaches all the way down to her knees.

It is terribly domestic. It is so terribly domestic and it looks so  _ right  _ and in that moment she is so–

Haurchefant’s thoughts sputter out as a swell of fondness and joy and longing seizes his heart and refuses to let go.

Would that he could be his sweater in this moment.

“...c...ome, aga...in?” Natsumi’s voice is low and bleary with sleep. She stirs slowly, looking so comfortable and cozy and  _ at home _ . The flood of emotions in his chest grows.

Haurchefant closes the door gently behind him. “I apologize for waking you from your slumber.”

Natsumi blinks blearily at him for a heartbeat before clarity sweeps across her face and her expression twists into one of pure mortification. She shoots up and off his bed, tail whipping slightly in agitation as she winces, sleeves tumbling down over her hands as she brings them to half covered thighs and bows. 

“I- I apologize for. I am truly so very. I apologize. For this breach of, of– I didn’t mean to- in your room- it’s just that it was so, so warm and Artoriel said that you were coming back soon and your room is the warmest in the house and it was just so comfortable and, and the sheets smell like you and it was just so  _ safe _ and then the next minute I-“

There is only so much self control one elezen can have. Haurchefant is already stepping forward and sweeping her into a crushing embrace that squeezes a squeak out of her. “Natsumi...” Pressed together flush like this, her chest digging into his, he wonders– 

Well. He wonders many things, but in this moment, most of all he wants to know if she can hear how loudly his heart is beating. “You truly meant what you said? That you feel the same as I?”

“I’m–” Her voice dies down when he tightens his arms around her instead, hands gently settling across her back. “–oh. Um. I.” Realization dawns on her as her panic and relief mix into one. “M-must I truly say directly– must you torment me–” Her words tumble across each other as her face does a fiercely accurate impression of a ruby tomato. 

Haurchefant quirks his lips up at her – but oh, isn’t he always smiling around her? Does his very being not sing with joy in her presence? Is she not the very reason his inner thoughts have taken to spontaneously waxing poetry in a most pretentious way? 

He tilts his head at her, purposefully obtuse. “I am not sure what you mean…?” 

She lets out a shaky laugh at that, exasperation and affection mixed into one in her eyes. “I love you, Haurchefant. I love you so much, and,” She takes a shuddering breath, long eyelashes fluttering as she buries her face into the crook of his neck. “I have always… You mean so much to mean, and I’ve always thought. I’ve always. You’ve always been so teasing and I don’t know what to think and I’m, I guess I had– I love you so, so much that I didn’t want to believe it was real and,” The words can’t seem to stop once they’ve started, sentiments tripping over one another.

And Haurchefant – and Haurchefant gently shifts until his forehead rests lightly against hers, carefully wiping away her tears with a thumb. “I apologize for all the distress I have caused, but it seems part of me becomes dangerously impulsive and illogical when it comes to you. You are just… Too  _ cute _ for me to think otherwise,” And Natsumi lets out a wordless squawk at that, cheeks a brilliant red.

“I love you too, Natsumi,” Haurchefant sighs, breath fanning gently over her lips. “I have said it in so many ways before, and will keep on doing so if you would have me. I love you. You are everything to me. You, my sweet. You.” He presses a chaste kiss to her lips. “It’s always been you.”

Natsumi leans into him with a breathless laugh.

And with this, summer has come to Ishgard.

* * *

They fall together so perfectly.

A butterfly’s touch, a lingering kiss. Her lips are warm, as warm as the rest of her, sunshine and daylight and halcyon summer days, life itself. A blush blazes into life across her freckles as he gently encourages her mouth to open, her quiet sigh lost to the persistent press of his tongue against hers.

Velvet. Satin. Cashmere. Countless fabrics of untold softness and beauty, but none would be fit to use as a metaphor for Natsumi. It would be an injustice. 

There are no words, no way to capture her beauty under the moonlight, her soft gasps of pleasure as he holds her, the way her fingers carefully entwine with his all the while. The fondness brimming in those eyes afterwards, the freckles splayed across her face, her tail gently curled around his thigh, her steadying breaths against his bare chest.

There are too many things words cannot describe, and Haurchefant’s love for Natsumi, for all that she is and all that she has made him and all that makes her –

Even love is a silly word for it.

She tilts her head back from where she’s tucked into his arms, bare back against bare chest. “A gil for your thoughts, ser Haurchefant?” Her voice is playful.

Haurchefant runs a finger through her hair and presses a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I simply wish I could convey to you just how much you mean to me, my dear flower. How much I love you so.”

Natsumi twists around gently to face him, a hand settling on his cheek. Her eyes are so, so bright and her smile, so so warm. “Silly,” She says. “For someone so full of verbalized affection–” She presses a gentle kiss onto him. “If I could show you my heart and everything it is always feeling. If,” Her eyes flick down for a second before they’re peering up intently into his eyes, peering past his soul and right down to the threads of aether that come together to make all that is Haurchefant. 

“If what you feel is anything like,” She gnaws on her red-kissed lips in thought. “Like this. This,” She gestures helplessly, the look in her eyes worth more than a million words. “Maybe there  _ aren’t  _ any words for it, but even so.” Her gaze is tender and quiet. “You know when they say home is more than just a place, sometimes?”

Haurchefant sighs at that, eyes fluttering shut as he pulls her in even closer, affection threatening to suffocate him. He breathes in everything that’s uniquely Natsumi and lets it keep him anchored amidst the torrent of pure joy and love and appreciation that threatens to cast him adrift in a sea of pure happiness.

“Welcome home, my dear.” He says softly into her.

Her entire face alights when she smiles, the midnight sun rising in the dark. “...I’m here,” She murmurs, lips brushing across his cheek. “I’m finally home.”

Tomorrow when dawn breaks, and the day after that, and the day after that, the stone walls of Ishgard will still be weathering frigid winds and chilling storms.

And yet. The seasons shift, and summer has finally returned once more to Ishgard, to Haurchefant. And this? Her gentle touch, her steady presence – this is more than enough to keep him warm until the end of his days.

**Author's Note:**

> and they lived happily ever after, forever and ever and ever and,
> 
> thank you for reading nonsense fluff that grew a life of its own and ran amok like an enraged boss JKDJFKs may haurchey forever brighten your days!! :>


End file.
